A Hawk's Freefall
by Sandylee007
Summary: TAKES PLACE BETWEEN THE TWO 'AVENGERS' MOVIES. On a mission that was supposed to be routine Clint/Hawkeye ends up getting badly injured. Has luck finally ran out or will the team and his own stubbornness keep him hanging on? TWOSHOT, NO PAIRINGS, NO SPOILERS
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Soooo… This idea's been sitting super firmly in my head since I saw 'The Age of Ultron' a couple of days ago. (Fret not, this is – almost, at least – completely spoiler free!) Those ideas transformed into a fic. (smirks sheepishly)

DISCLAIMER: NOPE, I own absolutely NOTHING of the 'Avengers' universe. Or well, only in my dreams, anyway. (sighs dramatically)

WARNINGS: Language! ('Sorry, Captain!) Blood, injuries. (blinks) Yeah, that's it. stunningly short!

Awkay, because I REALLY have to stop stalling… This is my first 'Avengers' fic so I'm a bit nervous. Let's go! I really hope that you'll enjoy the ride.

* * *

**_A Hawk's Freefall_**

* * *

It was supposed to be easy and simple. Well, as easy and simple as any Avengers mission could be. Clearly somewhere along the way someone had messed up the memo.

Clint swore as he simultaneously launched a yet another arrow and narrowly dodged a bullet. His arrow found its target effortlessly. The bullet came far too close for comfort to doing the same.

"_Language!_" Steve's voice came immediately through his ear comm. This time there was no humor in those words. The Captain himself muttered something incomprehensible.

"_Hypocrite_", Tony wasted no time in accusing.

"_In case anyone's interested I've got the disc_", Natasha's half amused, half irritated and tight voice cut in. "_So let's get the hell out of here. They're going to detonate this place._"

There was a moment of stunned, frozen silence. During which Clint was almost distracted enough to get hit. He made up for the slip of attention with shooting an arrow directly to the middle of the newest attacker's forehead.

"_What?_" Tony finally voiced their resonating, screaming thought.

"_Whatever they were hiding in that basement floor, they don't want anyone to find out. Or maybe whatever they were trying to hide has been moved away in the middle of this mess._" Natasha was running but not even the slightest bit out of breath. Of course not. "_Honestly, I don't care. Just move it! We've got two minutes and thirty seconds._"

Clint swallowed, feeling his body grow cold. He'd always mastered practical and strategic thinking. This time he didn't like it.

The thing with being the sniper of the group is that you end up into the places that are the hardest to get away from in case something unexpected occurs. Which, as Clint's aching body hurried to remind him, had been made perfectly clear to him several times over. At the moment he was stood on the East side of a ten-story-high building, all too aware that in exactly twenty-two seconds another group of hostiles would appear through the rooftop's only doorway. A group of unknown yet definitely massive number of hostiles who had no idea that they were only already dead meat with the sole purpose of making sure that not a single Avenger would make it out to report. Clint was good, yes. But even he wouldn't be able to take on all of them alone. Especially now. He shivered a little while pressing a hand against his bleeding side.

He had exactly one way out of there, only one teammember who could get to him fast enough.

"Um, guys…" He swallowed, not liking the taste in his mouth. "I'm kind of stuck, here."

It was funny, really, how he actually felt the rest of them tense up even though he couldn't see them. Tony swore, loudly. So did Natasha, before taking a deep breath. Did it shudder? "_Try not to get yourself killed. I'm on my way there._"

Clint gritted his teeth. Six seconds left. "Don't! I've already got it covered." He looked down. Well, maybe he was called a Hawk for a reason. "Stark, you're not busy, are you?"

Tony's sharp exhale revealed that the Iron Man caught on instantly. "_Oh, no you don't…!_"

The door behind him burst open. Time was up. "You'd better have one hell of a catch, Tinman", he half breathed out. Then stepped into the emptiness the exact same second bullets began to fly.

Shooting arrows while freefalling isn't as easy as it looks. With an amount of flexibility and strength that Clint didn't expect to find from himself anymore he shifted and aimed. A tiny smirk of satisfaction appeared to his face when his ammo reached the rooftop and exploded.

One heck of a way to prepare those guys for the big bang.

Sun shone into his eyes, blinding him momentarily. He groaned with discomfort, trying to shift once more. He didn't manage to.

That was when two things hit him at once, both of them metallic.

* * *

Tony allowed a very, very impressive selection of swear words to flood when he realized Clint's idiotic plan. And then he was on the move. Not desperately, of course, he didn't do desperately.

He was going to kill Clint for this if the moron didn't manage to get himself killed first.

It took him longer than it should've to spot his teammate. At first he squinted his eyes at the black blop falling towards the ground at a dizzying speed. And then his eyes widened. "Jesus…!"

Too fast, way too fast.

Pushing his suit to the extreme he dashed on, using up all his willpower into not trying to guess if he'd be fast enough. He saw what had to be at least twenty or thirty hostiles on the rooftop. It was far more pleasurable than it should've been to know that they'd already been dealt with.

And then Clint was in his arms. For a moment the sudden pressure and additional weight made them spin but their journey stabilized quickly. He tightened his hold on his cargo, his eyes scanning for a proper and hopefully safe landing spot. "You just couldn't resist trying your wings, Birdboy?"

Clint chuckled. It didn't sound right. "Gotta live up to my name."

Tony gritted his teeth, fighting the urge to roll his eyes. "'Live' should be the operative word, there", he pointed out. He frowned, not liking how Clint seemed to be growing limp against him. "Are you in one piece?"

"Yeah." Clint sighed, or perhaps groaned. "Fury should fire the idiots who gathered the data for this one."

Tony smirked. "I have a feeling that he already has." That was when he spotted a forest opening that seemed reasonably safe. A relative term, that. "Hold on, Legolas. It'll be a bumpy landing."

They did land, a bit more roughly than Tony would've liked. Clearly his banged up suit wasn't at its best. In a flash Clint was free of his hold. Well, the guy never did strike him as the cuddly type.

"If I didn't know better I'd say think that you tried to kill us."

"Hey, I'm not the one who just jumped off a building. You shouldn't be a critic." Tony allowed his armor to fall and was a breath away from putting it on guard mode when he froze. Anyone would when finding themselves from the wrong side of Hawkeye's weapon of choice. "What the…?!"

"Duck!"

Tony didn't hesitate and as soon as he obeyed an arrow flew. He followed it and his eyes widened a little when he saw it hit a hostile who'd been hiding in the shadows. The enemy fell like a ragdoll without its strings.

Tony grinned. Very slowly his pulse began to settle. "Nice. Maybe a bit unnecessarily dramatic but nice", he complimented.

There was something very, very wrong with how Clint didn't respond. But Tony didn't have the time to worry about that just yet. For at that exact moment the building they just left behind exploded with a gigantic roar. And they were a little too close.

Tony had just enough time to re-suit and charge towards a unshielded Clint before the blast caught up with them. They flew down with enough force to strike Tony breathless. He closed his eyes, waiting for the storm to pass by and hoping dearly that his suit would hang on through this one more assault.

It seemed to take ages but eventually it was over, leaving behind nothing but a painful ringing to Tony's ears and a majestic cloud of dust. Not quite daring to leave the comfort of his suit just yet Tony breathed in deep, then out, testing the motions. Yes, definitely alive and, save some bruises, unharmed.

"… move … 'king heavy…"

Tony smirked sheepishly. Sometimes he forgot that all the metal around him didn't exactly make him light as a feather. "Sorry." Breathing comfortingly evenly once more he reached for his ear-comm. "Everyone still intact?"

"_Yeah._" Steve sounded breathless but not pained. "_Thor just went to explore the ruins, to see if there's anything worth taking a closer look at._"

"_I'm fine._" Natasha's tone was a touch quieter than usual. "_Big Guy just got his lullaby. He didn't like the explosion too much. What about you? Did you catch Clint?_" Her voice was unnaturally tense, full of things that she wasn't ready or willing to reveal.

"We're good. I'll just…" At that moment he finally cast a proper look at Clint. All relief fled his system and the cold spread all the way to his fingertips. He gulped, his mouth painfully dry. "Crap…!"

Clint was absolutely still on the ground. The stillness wasn't the worrying part but the lack of attempt to get up from such a vulnerable position was. As were the two bleeding wounds the archer's attire had managed to disguise so far. Now, out in the open and in sunlight, the constantly growing amount of blood was entirely too visible. One wound on the man's side, definitely painful but not life threatening. The other wound was far, far too close to the chest.

"_Stark!_" Never before had he heard such panic in Natasha's voice. That alone was enough to indicate just how bad things were. "_Talk to me right now or I swear…!_"

"Barton's down", he blurted out, his stomach knotting uncomfortably. How the hell did he not notice…?! "He's been shot. We've gotta get away from here, _now_."

A massive amount of commotion followed while the rest of the team reacted to his news. Tony paid no mind. Clint's eyes were still half open, staring unfocusedly at some unnamed spot. Upon closer inspection Tony discovered that the archer's skin was cool and clammy. Shock was settling in, then. Not good, not good at all.

With his very limited medical knowledge Tony abandoned his suit, then tore off a piece of his shirt and squeezed it as tightly as he could against Clint's chest wound. He didn't like how unsteady his hands were. Nor did he like the fact that if he'd move the other man right now the bleeding would only intensify. If that was possible. He was stuck here, in the forest, with nothing but a lousy piece of fabric. Possibly stuck watching his friend dying.

_NO!_

"Barton!" Tony tapped the wounded man's cheek. No reaction. "Clint, you stubborn little…! Focus on me, you hear? Look at me or I'll punch you in the face."

Agonizingly slowly Clint's eyes shifted towards him. It was impossible to tell how much the man actually saw, though. The archer groaned pitiably, clearly finally feeling his hands on the wound. "Nat'll… kick my ass…"

"So will I", Tony announced, his voice far more shaky than he would've liked. The blood… It was seeping out too fast. Clint needed help, immediately. "Stay awake so I can tell you exactly how much of a moron you are for trying to get yourself killed again. You're the one who needs a full body armor."

Clint's chuckle sounded uncomfortably moist and ended with the man wincing. Hawkeye _never_ expressed discomfort so willingly. "… 'think Fury'll let me have one?" Slurred, barely comprehensible. Not good at all.

Tony gulped. All of a sudden his eyes were stinging and he fought the urge to rub at them. His hands were preoccupied by something far more important. "Hell, I'll pay for it."

Clint gave a one more, tiny smile that transformed into a grimace. That, eventually, turned into something far more terrifying. Clint's eyes were growing dimmer and it was easy to see how hard the man struggled to keep them open. "… 's freking cold."

It really wasn't. Tony tightened his squeeze, even with the risk that the accompanied pain might make Clint pass out. "I know." Where the hell were the others? "But the others are going to be here soon with blankets, alright? So stay awake." _You didn't just survive that jump to die of a goddamned bullet!_

That was when Tony heard commotion. The relief flew through him like a tidal wave. Those noises were familiar, safe. Maybe Clint wouldn't bleed to death in his arms, after all.

"Do you hear that?" He didn't even try to hide the euphoria that the newly restored hope brought. "They're almost here. Just…" He looked towards Clint and everything went absolutely, perfectly still.

Clint's eyes were closed.

* * *

One moment there was unbearable pain. Then nothing. Then strange dreams. Past and hopes for the future intertwined until it was impossible to tell what was real and what wasn't.

Clint heard gunshots and saw blood. Too much of it. And the bodies…! Friends… Enemies… Some of them deserved to die. Far too many didn't.

And then, through the haze, a familiar face swam through. He frowned and squinted his eyes, barely able to see. Somehow the warm, soft hand holding his helped ground him.

"Hey." To most Natasha's face might've seemed impassive. He knew better. There, buried deep into her steel eyes, sheer terror was catching fire. "Bruce is trying to stabilize you and we're almost back at the base, alright? It'll be okay. You'll be okay." It sounded far more like a plea than it should've, even if only to his experienced ears.

Clint tried to tighten his fingers around hers, to let her know that he undestood. He even tried to nod although he had no idea if he succeeded. Speaking wasn't an option with the oxygen mask covering his face. So he held on the best as he could, in more ways than one. Even when his consciousness fled once more he never once stopped squeezing Natasha's hand.

'_It'll be okay._'

'_You'll be okay._'

Yes. He would. He still had one or two of his nine lives left.

* * *

**_TBC_**

* * *

A/N: What? We all knew that there wouldn't be 'Age of Ultron' without Hawkeye. (BEAMS)

Soooo… How was it? Any good at all? Like I mentioned this is my first 'Avengers' fic so I'd LOVE to know if it was decent.

In any case, thank you SO MUCH for reading this far! And who knows. Maybe I'll see you again one day?

Take care!


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Heh, sooooo, after some requests and a lot of hard thinking I decided to give this story a second chapter. (grins) BUT, before getting to this second half…

THANK YOU, so very much, for your fantastic reviews! This is my first 'Avengers' fic so your response felt FANTASTIC.

Awkay, because stalling isn't kind… Let's go! I really hope that you'll enjoy the ride.

* * *

To anyone watching they looked like a very amusing bunch.

Two dark haired men sitting there in their sweatpants and hoodies with comically grim expressions, like a pair of school kids expecting to be called to their principal's office for an earfull. Another man, still wearing his red, blue and white outfit, altered between sitting down and walking around, his fingers never once pausing their nervous jerks. The tallest man, dressed in a Halloween costume, stood with a frown on his face, occasionally casting impatient, disapproving looks towards the room's door. Yet somehow the only woman of the group appeared the most dangerous of them all even if she just stood there, staring out the window. With the look that lingered on her tense face no one would've dared to approach her. All of them looked like they'd been to hell and back.

Tony saw the comical elements of the situation. He wasn't in the state of mind to appreciate them. He stared at his hands, which he'd already washed thrice. Some flakes of dried blood still remained under his fingernails. The sight made him feel sick to his stomach.

It'd been a chaos at first. At first they hurried to get Clint into a condition where it was safe to move him and then it was a race to get him into proper care before he'd bleed to death. But that was all over nine hours ago. Now, with nothing else to do but think, Tony felt infuriatingly lost. He hated the thinking part. Especially when the only thoughts in his head were of how Clint looked there in the forest and '_how the hell can anyone survive that?_'.

When they saw a middle aged, nearly bald hispanic man in scrubs approaching they all stood up like soldiers preparing for a war. This, even though the look on the doctor's face nearly dropped them right back down. They were told that it was uncertain if Clint would survive the night.

Tony felt like Thor's hammer had struck him without his suit shielding him. He fell to his seat like a sag of potatoes. A numb, gnawing ache spread through his whole body.

None of it made any sense.

Tony had no idea how long passed until the sounds of sharp steps snapped him out of the mental hurricane. His head rose just in time for him to see Natasha storm out of the room. None of them dared to ask where she was going. When she came back an hour and a half later the skin on her knuckles was broken and bloodied. The heartbreaking, haunted look in her eyes told that whatever she'd done it wasn't enough.

* * *

It took the medical team eighteen hours to get Clint stable enough to be allowed visitors. During those endless hours they lost the archer three times. But in the end the stubborn bastard was strong enough to beat the odds stacked against him.

Natasha shook her head as she stared at the heavily unconscious form of her friend, unwilling to look at the machine that helped the most hard-headed man she'd ever met breathe. She didn't like the way her eyes stung. "You've gotta stop doing this", she demanded in a harsh, steel hard tone. Anger was safe because if she'd let go of that for even a second, if she'd surrender to the panic that was swelling in the pit of her knotted stomach… "Jumping off buildings… Getting yourself shot… Bleeding out on me… When you don't look half dead I'll punch you for making me wait around by your hospital bed again."

Clint didn't respond. Of course she'd known to expect as much but that didn't lessen the blow of the disappointment. The archer remained terrifyingly pale and eerily still.

The ability to remain perfectly still is essential for a sniper but this, Natasha decided, was ridiculous.

Natasha wiped her eyes with the hand that wasn't holding Clint's and didn't know what to make of the droplets of moisture left on her fingertips. She gritted her teeth and tightened her hold on her friend's hand. His forced stillness was a horrible mirror to the tremble that was slowly yet steadily taking over her whole body.

She was good at action, it was what she'd been trained for, but this waiting…

Her jaw tightened right along with her grip. "You're not allowed to check out on me yet, Clint", she announced, her voice full of pure steel. One of her fingers slipped to his pulse point. It was still there, steady even if not quite as strong as she would've liked. She stared at his rising and falling chest, anchored herself on the evidence of continuing life. "I… There's still so much debt that I have to repay." Enough for several lifetimes. "You're not allowed to check out until I've repaid it all. Do you understand?"

She didn't know how much longer passed until her senses, sharpened by years upon years in her line of job, warned her that she wasn't alone. She turned her head to see Bruce stood by the room's doorway. They acknowledged each other with brief nods until Bruce entered, his eyes scanning through the machinery monitoring Clint's vitals. The lines on the doctor's forehead deepened and, most likely subconsciously, one hand grabbed the archer's bed railing and held on almost convulsively.

Most people would've offered pathetic 'Don't worries' and 'He'll be alrights'. Not Bruce. He cared, that was loud and clear on his exhausted face that held several worry lines. But he was the kind of a man who didn't waste his breath on empty nothings. Perhaps that was why his company made her relax, even if only a little bit.

"What happened to the one visitor at a time rule?" she questioned.

Bruce shrugged while finally taking a seat. Although he tried to smile his eyes seemed a decade older than a couple of days ago. "Do you really think that they'd dare to piss off the big guy with trying to remove me?"

It wasn't funny at all, not really. But Natasha smiled nonetheless. Even if it was only because of the relief over having something else to think about than the fact that the hand in hers couldn't squeeze back anymore.

And so they sat in a companionable silence, watching how Clint's heartbeat blinked on the monitor's screen. Drawing whatever little comfort they could from each other as they continued their grim post. Both knowing and, bottling up their frustrated rage, accepting that for now it was all they could do.

Little by little the room began to get packed up. Surprisingly it was Tony who caved in first, muttering something about Pepper having kicked him out after he'd been pacing around and snapping at everyone like a lost and injured puppy. ("_Her words, not mine._") Thor marched in about half an hour later, taking a spot in the room's corner like its very own security guard. It was almost amusing how lost the frowning Asgardian looked, there. Steve was the last to enter and everything about his features screamed that he'd had a very unpleasant and long talk with Fury. None of them asked further.

So the wait continued with their whole, bizarre team keeping an eye on their fallen one. For some reason Natasha found it a little easier to breathe than before. She sighed and focused her attention on Clint's limp hand, her thumb beginning to rub circles on it.

_I know that you'd hate all this attention_, she mused. _You want them to stop hovering? Then you'd better wake the hell up and kick them out because I'm not going to._

* * *

The first time Clint woke up he was still so out of it that nothing made much sense to him. He did know that the room was dark and for a moment adrenaline spiked up until Tony's familiar voice spoke. "Ah, he awakens. Are you finally done with the beauty sleep?"

Drowsy and confused, Clint blinked twice and turned his head just enough to see Tony occupying the chair beside his bed. The man looked like he hadn't slept in days and the sight brought a frown to the archer's face. "Wah…?"

"You've been out for a while after a pretty messy surgery. Tossing yourself off a building and getting shot does that to a person." Tony's forced light tone wasn't enough to disguise the worry. The man took a plastic mug and slipped a straw between Hawkeye's teeth. "Take a couple of sips but nice and slow, yeah? Romanoff will have my head if I let you make yourself sick."

Gratefully Clint took a few mouth fulls, savouring each and every single one of them although they made his throat feel like it'd been set on fire. He couldn't remember the last time his mouth would've felt as dry. It was ridiculous how tired and winded the simple action of swallowing made him.

Clint sighed, letting go of the straw and sinking heavily against the bed. "Thanks", he murmured in a voice he couldn't quite recognize. His eyes were starting to droop. "For the water. And the catch." Almost full sentences. How about that.

Clearly seeing that he was an inch from dozing off already Tony put the mug away. "I couldn't exactly let you plummet to the pavement with a bullet in your chest. Just… Try not to do that again."

Clint chuckled and regretted it instantly. The sound that erupted was awful. The pain that exploded in his chest was a thousand times worse. He bit back a groan. "Which? Get shot or fall?"

Tony rolled his eyes. "Preferably both. Because between the two of us, I like you better in one piece." There was a moment's pause, during which the archer almost drifted off without hearing the final words. "Featherhead."

Clint attempted to produce a comeback but it was getting harder and harder to focus. Managing to get a hold his scattered thoughts was a real struggle. "The others?"

"Some cuts and bruises but you're the only one who needed to be carried out of that mess." Tony stretched and, with his eyes closed, Clint heard him stiffle a yawn. "Just sleep. Maybe you'll be more fun when you wake up again." Obviously seeing him struggle the Iron Man went on. "Stop worrying for a second. I'll keep watch."

Clint wasn't really in the condition to object to that. And so, cocooned by the knowledge that everyone was alright and he was safe, he allowed himself to drift off. If it was anyone else guarding his sleep he could've sworn that he felt a hand in his.

* * *

When Clint woke up again his head was far more clear. And the room was far more populated. He blinked several times and shivered at the sight that met him.

The whole team was there. Natasha was sitting right beside his bed, so that she had a clear view to the room's door like she always preferred. This time he could be sure that someone was holding his hand because the hold was hers. Thor stood by the room's window, staring out with such intense focus that the Asgardian clearly had no idea that he was awake. Based on his ruffled hair and the coffee stains on his shirts Bruce had fought a brave battle but eventually the man had fallen asleep on the chair placed nearby the foot-end of Clint's bed. The doctor's neck was bent to such a position that it was bound to be sore. The room's door was ajar and the archer could see Tony and Steve outside, absorbed by the millionaire's cell phone. Whatever the Iron Man was showing had brought a close to mortified look to Steve's face.

They all appeared exhausted and Clint hated the almost certain knowledge that it was because of him. But they were together. Just like they worked together throughout their mission.

They had a absolutely horrible start, one that Clint whole heartedly wanted to avoid remembering. But now, after a lot of trial and error, they were a team. A real, proper, more or less well functioning team. One to which he belonged.

Even though Clint was used to fighting alone that thought, the sense of belonging and having people looking out for him, felt almost terrifyingly good. Enough so to lead him right back to deep, fully relaxed sleep. There was nothing to worry about and he knew that none of his usual nightmares would bother him.

His team would look out for him until he could be their eyes from the sky once more.

* * *

**_End._**

* * *

A/N: Awww, they're such great team! And Clint's getting better. It'll take time but he'll get there.

Soooo… Any good, at all? PLEASE, do let me know! It'd be fantastic to hear from you.

Take care! And who knows. Maybe I'll see you again one day.

* * *

**severinas.96**: I'm THRILLED to hear that you enjoyed it so much! (BEAMS) Clint and Tony are just too cute, right? (grins)

Nope, sure wasn't the last. We'll see just what I cme up with next…

Massive thank yous for the review!


End file.
